Airplane Boys at Platinum River by E J Edith Janice Craine

55 Pages·2021·0.38 MB·English

The Project Gutenberg eBook, Airplane Boys at Platinum

River, by E. J. (Edith Janice) Craine

This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with
almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg
License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have to
check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook.
Title: Airplane Boys at Platinum River
Author: E. J. (Edith Janice) Craine
Release Date: March 15, 2018 [eBook #56746]
Language: English
Character set encoding: UTF-8
***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AIRPLANE BOYS AT PLATINUM RIVER***

E-text prepared by Roger Frank

and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team

(http://www.pgdp.net)

from page images digitized by the Google Books Library Project

(https://books.google.com)

and generously made available by the HathiTrust Digital Library

(https://www.hathitrust.org/)

Note:
Images of the original pages are available through HathiTrust Digital Library. See
https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=mdp.39076002631070;view=1up;seq=7

AIRPLANE BOYS AT PLATINUM RIVER

Airplane Boys At Platinum River

BY E. J. CRAINE

THE WORLD SYNDICATE PUBLISHING CO.

CLEVELAND, O. NEW YORK, N. Y.

Copyright, 1931

by

THE WORLD SYNDICATE PUBLISHING COMPANY

Printed in the United States of America

In this fifth book of the Airplane Boys, Jim and Bob risk their lives to help a worthy
family out of their difficulties.

CONTENTS

CHAPTER

PAGE

I.
An Old Enemy
9

II.
Delayed Return
25

III.
Unidentified
41

IV.
A Distress Call
56

V.
Platinum River
75

VI.
Capture
91

VII.
Through Space
107

VIII.
The Air Battle
123

IX.
Taken for a Ride
138

X.
Shivering Rocks
154

XI.
Treasure
170

XII.
Gross Exaggeration
187

Airplane Boys At Platinum River

CHAPTER I

AN OLD ENEMY

“I say, Buddy, my esophagus feels as if my pharynx is severed,” Robert Caldwell remarked very soberly to his step-

brother, Jim Caldwell, as the pair made their way among the gay crowd attending the Spanish-Peruvian fiesta near Cuzco.

“That’s right serious, old man. Think somebody shot an arrow into the air while you were asleep with your mouth open and

it dropped in?” the older boy inquired with equal gravity.

“Is that any way to treat a fellow who is empty to his boot tips and just when I am beginning to discard vulgar slang for

something real cultured in the way of language?” Bob demanded.

“Oh! Do you perchance happen to be trying to convey the idea that you are hungry? Why don’t you say so in good old

Texas, long may she reign, talk!”

“Well, when do we tank up?”
“Looks to me as if Carlos de Castro is going to be late. He said that he might, so we may as well make a landing and take

on fuel,” Jim agreed cheerfully. They proceeded toward the section where a number of tables were set up in stalls beside
rows of tropical plants growing in tubs, but it appeared that Bob was not the only person who was anxious to get something
to eat, for everyplace they saw was occupied.

“A table, Senors?” inquired a deferential waiter, who bowed with great politeness, then led the way to the further end of

the serving space. He dragged a pair of kegs into the shelter of the foliage, swung a wide board over the top of them,
produced a cloth from under his coat and with a great flourish smoothed it out. Two chairs appeared from behind a pile of
boxes. “Presto,” he smiled widely.

“Pronto,” Bob replied. Placing one hand over his belt buckle, he bowed deeply. “Before me, esteemed brother.”
“If I were behind you there is no telling what I’d do to you,” Jim answered. “Why this reversion to days when knighthood

was budding?” He took one of the seats and Caldwell the other.

“I’m letting Spanish manners get under my skin—”
“Looks more like wood-ticks—” Austin interrupted. “They make a horse skid around just that way.”
“And I want to impress Mom when we get home, old man. Have you forgotten that we take the air at crack of dawn to-

morrow and our bird is to set us down on the K-A ranch before the sun’s evening rays can reach the peak of Cap Rock?”

“Sure I know.” Jim’s eyes glistened. “It’ll be great to sail through space like that and so high that no one will see us, but just

the same, me Flying Buddy, if you go acting like that around your mother, she’ll think that something is the matter with you,
and it will be a dose of oil for yours.” At that the two laughed heartily, but their merriment was cut short by the appearance of
the waiter with huge platters of mighty good-looking food, so they proceeded to do it justice.

“The meals in Peru are almost as good as in Texas,” Bob remarked after he had helped himself and made his first attack.
“Right-O, but it will be grand to get home,” Jim declared. They did not talk any more but gave their undivided attention to

the meal, and while it was in process, they noted indifferently that two men had been ushered to the table the other side of the
artificial hedge and a bit forward of their own. That place too had been put up roughly to accommodate the extra crowd and
was a bit apart from the others. Jim, who was facing the festival, had the better view of the occupants and through the
branches he could see the rather stout, stooped shoulders of one’s back, and occasionally caught a glimpse of the other’s
face. He was a slender, dark man whose bearing was quite military, and about his lips played a smile that was more like a
sneer than an indication of a cheerful disposition.

“Wall—I’m here,” the heavier man announced with surliness, and Bob turned cautiously at the sound of that voice but

couldn’t see the faces of either men.

“So it is. You have a difficult time had,” the first speaker began. “We will of refreshments partake, my good sir, then we

can talk in this so exclusive little corner without fear—without undue fear,” he added as he took the precaution to glance
around. Jim bent his head low over his plate and it did not seem to occur to the man that another couple might have been
placed so far beyond the dining space. “You had an accident and have been in the hospital.”

“Yah. I sent you word from the hospital, didn’t I?”
“That is true. It was grievous that your accident should have come at such an inopportune moment; when there was work

for you,” the other remarked, and there was an odd insinuation in his voice.

“If you, or your boss thinks I cracked up because I wanted to, you have got another think coming—see! I wasn’t even

piloting the plane when she came down—” There was anger in the tone and Jim saw the man’s shoulders straighten and lean
forward a trifle.

“Control your temper, my friend. I merely remarked it was too bad for you—”

“Oh, you did—well—maybe you got another guess coming on that too,” the other answered. The waiter brought them

wine, which they sipped in silence until the man was well out of ear-shot.

“Another guess, you say?”
“That’s what I said.” Bob, who had been leaning so that he could hear every word easily, glanced questioningly at Jim.
“Know them?” his lips formed, and Jim shook his head that he didn’t.
“Do you?” he asked softly.
“One, I think. Listen!” They attended to their own food as quietly as possible but every faculty was alert. Aside from

noticing that the two men seemed an ill-assorted pair Jim had not been greatly interested, but now that Bob thought he
recognized one of them, he was anxious to learn more. The Flying Buddies had managed to get into so many adventures since
the summer months when they had dropped Her Highness down in Canada almost at the feet of a Royal Mounty and had
offered to help the patrol man capture border-runners, that caution was a fixed habit with both of them. They had found that it
paid.

“Now, look here,” the stout man began aggressively, “I ain’t a part of your outfit—see!”
“I observe, but you have worked—not too successfully—with us.”
“Yah. I went into that fool Don business with Lilly Boome.”
“Why broadcast?”
“Well, I did, and it wasn’t my fault it didn’t come out so good.”
“That has been admitted by the chief himself. The Don is a very clever man.”
“Yah, he is. I went there like I owned the place, and he put it all over us, like a crab-net, see? Now, I’m told you’re

wanting me to get work in this new power works down here—”

“It will not be difficult—”
“You haul in your horns. If it’s so easy why don’t you do it yourself? Now listen, I told you I don’t belong to your outfit

and I ain’t taking orders from your chief—not me. See? I heard on good authority that there are some of the Don’s own tribe
in that works—and I’m not buttin’ in against any of them. That’s flat and final,” he declared emphatically.

Then, into Jim’s mind dashed the recollection of the evening he and Bob had dined with Don Haurea at the Box Z ranch,

which adjoined the K-A along Cap Rock in Texas. They were so well entertained by their new friend that they failed to note
the passage of the hours and it was quite late when an automobile brought a former housekeeper of the ranch, a lawyer with a
brief-case full of legal documents, and a man whom they claimed was a son of Don Haurea’s father. The Don had made short
work of them, and now, Jim was sure that he recognized the broad back of Ollie, who had posed as the son. Even to the
boys the scheme had seemed too stupid for anyone with a grain of sense to take part in or try to put over, but later the Don
had explained that it was an attempt to get him and his property tied up by law. While there could be no possible doubt as to
the outcome of the suit if the matter ever got as far as that, the rogues expected to have an uninterrupted opportunity to ferret
out ancient secrets and perhaps find great wealth which they thought was concealed somewhere about the Box-Z Ranch. The
Flying Buddies exchanged surprised glances, but neither moved nor spoke as they sat listening.

“You should not be afraid—” the man sneered.
“Afraid, that’s good! Well, big boy, maybe I am afraid, but I’m not touchin’ the job, see! I got something myself that ain’t

such little potatoes as blowing up a power-plant or putting a crimp in the works. That’s my answer.”

“In your answer I am interested.”
“Maybe you are, and maybe you ain’t, but if you knew what it was, you would be—and how,” Ollie retorted.
“You have perhaps discovered a gold mine!” the man suggested.
“I have, perhaps, and perhaps it’s something better than gold. Now, you listen. You know I was flying with another guy to

Cuzco to meet you, and we came down like a thousand bricks,” Ollie said.

“That I have heard. I watched the funeral of the pilot and I sent to you flowers and jelly and wine to the hospital,” the other

man answered casually.

“Yah. Well, I crawled out of the wreck after somebody else had picked up the pilot and took him to the hospital. Then I

tried to make a fire to keep warm by and signal, and while I was asleep it burned up what was left of the plane. I had to get a
move on or be cooked myself, and I nearly was. I found some berries and roots that I ate and days afterward I managed to
drag myself to a trapper’s hut, and the man took me to the nearest settlement. Now—when I was crawling from that bon-fire,
I found something swell—swell.” He straightened his back and cocked back his head. “Waiter,” he shouted. “More wine—
plenty more.”

“You should be moderate with wine after having been ill,” the other man reminded him.
“Yah. Maybe I should. Not because I’ve been ill, but because I might talk too much—”
“You’re not exactly tight-mouthed at the moment.”
“Think you’re funny, don’t you? Well, you trot back to your High Chief, or whatever he is, and tell him if he’s interested I’ll

go fifty-fifty with him. He can divide his share anyway he likes, but fifty per cent is mine and no questions asked.”

“Probably you have found an ancient Ynca treasure hole. They are being found every day, and when investigated—nothing

more valuable than a crumbling mummy is revealed,” the other told him.

“You ain’t no good at guessin’. If I hadn’t cracked the plane I’d go back and get the whole works myself, but you tell your

chief that’s my proposition,” Ollie answered insolently. “A lot of guys will jump at the chance the minute I spring it, but you

fellows get first crack.”

“Very generous of you.”
“Sure, I’m generous.”
“Should I have the great audacity to return to my ‘chief’ as you call him, he would think me crazy, my friend. You’ll have to

give me something more than vague phrases to repeat to him. In the first place, your story is not convincing, regardless of
what you found. You were injured, it was days before you reached the trapper’s cabin, you could not return to the spot,” the
other objected.

“I ain’t such a nut as I look. I can go right back to that spot, and don’t you forget it,” Ollie boasted.
“Did you make a map of the locality?”
“Ain’t you cute? Why don’t you ask if I have it with me?”
“You are too quick, my friend. It is unfair to be so sensitive. As a man of the world you are perfectly aware that no one

would consider any proposition unless he knew what he is going after.”

“All right. I’ll tell you. It’s platinum—” Ollie spoke more softly, but Bob understood what he said.
“My friend, there has been no platinum discovered in Peru in hundreds of years. There was, at one time, a small amount of

it, but never a very great quantity. Not enough to make it worth thinking about. The world gets it in quantities from Russia,
and these Andes have been searched diligently, but there is little here.”

“That’s where you are wrong.”
“How do you know it was platinum?”
“Listen, big boy, during the war we had to have it, and I flew with some other lads into Russia to get it, see? We came out

with it—I got more than any other man in the outfit, and I brought it back. I know what I’m talking about.”

“That is indeed interesting. I shall present your proposition to the chief and I am sure that he will be most happy to discuss

the matter with you.” He extended his hand with a smile and Ollie accepted it with a swaggering toss of his head.

“I knew I’d get you on the run. Come on, I want to have a dance with one of those Spanish girls—they sure have pretty

girls here.” The pair rose quickly and a moment later strode off toward the dancing pavilion.

“Whew! Wouldn’t that rattle your great-aunt’s false teeth!” Bob whistled.
“Or make the dear lady do a Highland Fling,” Jim added. “So, this is where little Ollie took himself after he left the Don’s

that night. Guess the United States got kind of hot for him. Wonder if he has discovered platinum?”

“Well, if he has, he’ll never see a flake of it,” Bob remarked soberly. “That Chief, or whatever he is, will get the whole

shooting match away from him so quickly it’ll make his head spin.”

“Let’s have some dessert and if Carlos doesn’t show up by the time we’ve finished, we’d better go home. The mail will be

in and there will be letters from Dad and your mother.”

“Suits me,” Bob agreed. They motioned to the waiter and ordered a pastry, but before it was half finished, Jim happened

to look up.

“Here comes Carlos now. Somebody is with him.” Bob glanced around and then they saw that a man was following

Carlos, on rather walking close behind him.

“Senors, I have searched for you,” Carlos called, then he stopped as the man came closer.
“Pardon, senor. You picked up a wallet which was dropped by my friend who was taken ill,” he said very politely.
“Yes, I did pick up some sort of case, but I don’t know about handing it over to a stranger,” Carlos answered good-

naturedly.

“My friend was taken ill and is now on the way to the hospital,” the man urged. “I am distressed and would go to him at

once.”

“Yes, of course,” the young fellow hesitated, then the man stepped close and one hand was pressed against Carlos’ side.

The Flying Buddies saw the move, and sprang up.

“I say, old thing, what’s the idea?” Bob demanded.
“Sure you are not off your wave length?” Jim added. Four fists were clenched hard and two pairs of eyes flashed angrily.

“Keep your hand in your pocket, old timer.” They shoved in between their pal and the chap who accosted him, but just as
they did so, two huge men leaped from the background and one of them caught Carlos on the chin with such a crack that he
dropped to the floor, but he rolled over on his face before the fellow could put a hand into his breast pocket. In a moment
fists and feet were flying in a grand free-for-all, and someone, probably the manager of the place, pranced about trying to
round up the fighters into a shed or anyplace out of sight of the crowd.

“My business, my business,” he wailed, then, almost as suddenly as the scrap had started, the three boys were yanked to

their feet and they found themselves in a huge kitchen.

“He stole a wallet that belongs to my friend,” the first chap accused. “Search him and you’ll find it.” A very tall man in a

clean white suit stepped forward as if to carry out the request, but Jim quickly put a detaining hand on the fellow’s arm.

“I say, listen—” he urged. The man looked down at the boy and for the briefest instant his eyes rested on the green

emerald ring he always wore. “That chap is lying—”

“Put them out,” he snapped to a huge attendant, who looked more like a great gorilla than a human being.
“Si.”

“I tell you—”
“Depart.” In less time than it takes to tell it, the assaulting party were kicked out of the kitchen, down a pair of slippery

stairs and into a shallow hole used for slop water. They cursed and sputtered alternately, but the bouncer raised his foot again,
so they scrambled away from the vicinity as fast as they could go.

“Your names, young gentlemen,” the tall chap said politely.
“I’m Jim Austin,” the Flying Buddy began and proceeded to introduce his companions.
“And I am Alonzo de Zimmon. I regret that you should have had such an unpleasant experience in my establishment.” He

held out his hand to Bob, who promptly accepted it, and his eyes rested on the mate to Caldwell’s ring. “It has given me great
pleasure to meet you young Americans. And you, also, Senor de Castro. Your father I know well.”

“Of course, I’ve heard him speak of you, Don de Zimmon. We certainly are obligated to you for helping us,” Carlos

replied. “My father will come and thank you just as soon as I tell him how greatly we are indebted to you.”

“It will give me great pleasure to take you home in my car,” the Don answered. “I am about to drive your way.”
“Thanks a lot,” Jim accepted.
“We do not wish to inconvenience you, sir,” Carlos said quickly.
“Not at all,” answered the Don, then added, “Unless you desire to remain longer at the festival.”
“Reckon we’re willing to call it a day,” said Bob ruefully looking at their clothes, which were rumpled and dusty.
“Even so, you are not so disheveled and unpresentable as your late opponents,” the Don smiled.

CHAPTER II

DELAYED RETURN

When Don de Zimmon’s limousine drew up before the palatial home of the de Castros, there was real concern on the face

of Pedro de Castro as he came to greet them.

“My old friend, Alonzo, it is indeed a great pleasure to see you but your looks are all so grave that I am anxious to know if

trouble has befallen any of you.”

“A little scrap, Padre, that’s all. We were so mussed, that is, our clothes, that Senor de Zimmon generously gave us a lift,

which we accepted instead of waiting for the car.” Carlos spoke lightly.

“Your son, my friend, is not unlike we were, you and I, in long past days when adventure made our blood hot, but although

we thought nothing of facing danger, we carefully concealed details from families if we were able. He is only partly correct in
his statement. It was because I felt that something more serious might occur that I urged an immediate return home. I should
have been most distressed had I permitted them to come unattended,” the Don replied.

“Many exploits we shared, my old friend, but it was always you who faced the greatest danger and whose deeds were

most daring. On your heels I was a courageous fellow—ready to attack a lion—but alone—” he shrugged his shoulders,
“alone I was given to going the long way around.”

“You do not do yourself justice. Once I recall that your sword saved me when my own had been broken; and another time

you fought off a hungry shark—”

“It was nothing—” old Pedro said quickly.
“Nothing, Padre? You never told me anything about those times!”
“Perhaps some day we will talk of them. Tell me this moment, what danger threatened these sons of my friends in the

United States, and my own boy?”

“They were attacked at the fiesta by a lot of ruffians and came rolling into the kitchen of the Santa Maria just as I entered

to speak to my manager. My first impulse was to have them kicked out.” As he spoke his eyes rested a moment on Jim, then
he proceeded, “but I saw that they were not all of the same breed, so I had the scum booted and brought these boys home to
you because I feel sure that the men who assaulted them would not be satisfied with the outcome of the combat.”

“That is indeed serious. Let us go to the portico where it is cool, and let me hear at once the facts. I beg of you, my dear

Don, come with us, then I shall surely get the full particulars from these young people.” The three boys glanced at each other
ruefully, but they followed the old gentlemen and were soon seated about a small table in the shade of great palm trees close
by the pool with its tall fountain from which the water shot high, then dropped back on the glistening foliage. A servant
brought iced drinks, and when they were comfortably settled, the host’s eyes sought his son’s with a question.

“I don’t understand it, Padre, I’d promised the Buddies that I would join them at the fiesta the minute I could get there, and

I was much later than I expected to be. To save time, I hired a cab and had the man drive me around the further side because
I thought I could reach the boys more directly. I paid the man and he went off, then I noticed another car coming along the
road. There wasn’t anything special about that, only it seemed strange anyone should come to the festival by that route, but I
dismissed the matter because I’d come by that route myself.”

“Yes?”
“The car was being driven very slowly as if the chauffeur expected to pick up someone he had not located. Then, as I

hurried along, I saw two men coming rather quickly, supporting a third man between them. His feet rather dragged but not as
if he was drunk and his hands, or one of them, was fumbling in the front of his coat. His hat was on the back of his head,
which was moving from side to side, and just as they drew close, it was knocked off. One of the men bent and picked it up
and then I caught a glance of the sick man’s face. It was very flushed, but his eyes looked as if he was perfectly aware of
what was taking place. They put his hat on, the chauffeur blew his horn softly, and in a moment the three got into the car and it
was driven away quickly.”

“Extraordinary!”
“I didn’t think much about that at the moment, then it dawned upon me that the man’s eyes were more fearful than ill. I

paused at the spot where his hat dropped wondering if I should report the matter, then, right at my feet I saw a wallet. I
supposed it belonged to the third man, so I picked it up, determined to hand it over to the police as soon as possible. Then I
hurried to join our friends, and had just succeeded in finding their table and calling a greeting when a stranger touched my arm
from behind and begged that I return the wallet which he was going to take to his sick friend.”

“That’s when we saw him,” Jim put in.
“Ordinarily I should have done so without a question, for the chap was gentlemanly enough, but the look in that man’s eyes

sort of got me, so I told him I was not sure that I should. Immediately his face got ugly and he poked his fingers into my ribs
and demanded that I hand it over at once and from right behind him jumped two huge fellows. One of them landed his fist on
my jaw, then I believe the Flying Buddies came on with their engines wide open. I felt one of the men make a dive to my
pocket, so I managed to roll over and keep my coat closed tightly. After that I felt as if I’d landed in a hive of mad bees and I
couldn’t get up until the chief dragged me to my feet. One of the men accused me of stealing the wallet and demanded that I
be searched, but the Don stepped in and took command. That’s all I know.”

“What sort of looking men were they, my son?”

“The two who supported him were tall, well-built fellows. The sick man was quite stout and wore a dark suit. I should say

that he was an American; he was quite fair.” Although this description was not very complete, the Flying Buddies exchanged
glances.

“Wonder if it was Ollie?” Bob ventured.
“And who is this Ollie?” the Don asked with interest.
“He’s—I don’t know much about what he is, really, but we saw him the first time in Don Haurea’s home a year ago, and

today he was at the table nearest to ours on the other side of the hedge,” Bob replied, then proceeded with an account of the
affair to which the gentlemen listened attentively.

“And you are guessing that this so-called sick man may be this one to whom you listened?”
“It popped into my head, sir. I just thought that if his companion at the table wanted to get information from him, he might

have arranged to take him off the grounds in some way,” Bob answered.

“They must have worked fast,” Jim added.
“Those fellows aren’t exactly slow motion movers,” said Bob.
“No, they are not.”
“Have you heard anything of recent platinum discoveries?” the Don inquired.
“No, I have not, but according to this ‘Ollie’s’ statement, he had kept the secret to himself,” Pedro de Castro reminded

them.

“We all know that the Andes are rich with treasure of one sort or another and many expeditions have been financed to

search for the precious metal, but I understand that our geologists agree that while there may be small quantities of it in
different sections it is of a poor quality and in places where getting it out would cost more than it is worth,” the Don told them.

“That is quite true. I have seen the report. When the Spaniards came to this land there was a good deal, or rather the

Indians had quantities of it; they called it ‘frog gold’ but at that time the white men knew nothing of its value and would not
have it. Later a great deal was accumulated and shipped to Spain, then the supply diminished until now it is almost gone. Now
it is Russia that is rich with the mineral,” Senor de Castro explained.

“Well, I say, Carlos, we can soon settle if the chap was Ollie. Perhaps the name is on his wallet,” Jim suggested.
“I never thought of that.” Carlos grinned and produced it from his inside pocket. He handed it to his father and the older

man turned it over carefully. It was as long as a legal-sized envelope, made of very soft thin Russian leather, with three long
folds. When it was opened wide they saw two small flaps in the middle to be brought down over the ends of bills or papers,
while the outside edges were stitched to form a pocket. Senor de Castro examined it carefully but there wasn’t a scrap of
paper of any description in it.

“Empty as a last year’s bird’s nest,” Jim remarked.
“Quite empty,” their host replied.
“It’s a nice looking wallet, but shivering sharks, what is there about that to fight over?” Bob exploded.
“It is very mysterious,” Senor de Castro responded soberly. He handed it to his friend, who also scrutinized it thoroughly.
“Not so much as an initial scratched on it,” he declared.
“Some mystery,” Jim put in. “Perhaps Carlos was seen picking the wallet up and they were not taking any chances on

losing the secret.”

“Yes,” Bob added. “We don’t know that it is Ollie’s.”
“That is true. We do not. In fact, we know little more than we did before we examined it. I should suggest that you retain

possession of it for the present and I can make judicious inquiries as to the identity of the owner. If he were really ill, it is more
than likely that he is now in the hospital, and he could not be admitted without a name. It was strange indeed that a gang of
ruffians should make such an effort to secure it, unless they did not know how barren it was. Now, my good friend, I think it
would be well for our young people to—as it is so aptly put in America, scrutinize their step.”

“We’ll watch our step, and our hop too,” Jim laughed.
“Yes. We are off for home in the morning so I guess there are no more Peruvian adventures for us,” Bob grinned

cheerfully.

“Then, I shall tell you it is with regret that I bid you good evening, and I trust that I shall have the pleasure of meeting you

again.” The Don extended his hand cordially, and both boys rather wished that they had had a chance to know him better.

“If you ever get to the bottom of this puzzle I hope you will let us know, sir.”
“I shall be delighted.” The Don took his departure, and when Senor de Castro returned to the portico the boys were still

puzzling over the empty wallet.

“You will be careful,” he urged.
“Of course. Don de Zimmon seems like a mighty fine man. You must have had some wonderful times when you were

growing up,” Bob remarked.

“We had some wonderful times, but we did not grow up together. The Don is Peruvian, although he speaks little of his

forefathers. He came here with his family when he was a lad in his teens and we attended the same school; also we went off
to college and after that we drifted apart. The Don traveled extensively in the Orient, and a few years ago he returned to
Cuzco with his wife and children. They are a fine family, splendid citizens,” Senor de Castro explained.

“Tell us about that shark business, Padre,” Carlos insisted.

“You have forgotten that your suits need to be changed,” his father reminded him.
“That’s so,” they had to admit, so they could not press the man for the story, although it sounded mighty thrilling. When

they returned, ready for dinner, a cable was handed to Jim, who opened and decoded it quickly.

“We miss you much, but I wish that you would stay until the analysis is made and bring the report with you. I
shall feel safer than trusting it to the regular carriers. All well here.

Dad.”

“It will give us pleasure to have you remain,” Carlos chuckled when the message was read to him and his father.
“It will take perhaps two days to get the report and I believe that Senor Austin’s caution is very wise,” the older man

declared. Although the Flying Buddies were anxious to get home and the message gave them a deep feeling of
disappointment, they kept it to themselves, and grinned as if delighted at the postponement.

“Doubtless you will learn more of the mystery of my sick friend, or your Ollie,” Carlos suggested.
“It’ll be great to know what the answer is,” Jim responded cheerfully.
Later that evening when they were in Jim’s room, Caldwell lingered at the door. “I say, we were lucky that Don de

Zimmon could tell us from the roughnecks.” Austin looked at him a moment.

“It was lucky that we were wearing the green emerald rings that Yncicea Haurea gave us that day we rescued him off the

Island in Lake Champlain,” he replied softly.

“The rings?” Bob glanced at his.
“Sure. The Don saw mine first then had a look at yours when he shook hands with you. Guess he’s one of the Ynca

descendants.”

“I might have known he couldn’t pick us out of that mess. Gee, Buddy, what a lot of things we have nose-dived into since

the boy gave us those rings. I am rather glad we are staying over, perhaps we’ll see the Don again and I’d like to know if that
sick lad was Ollie.”

“Me too. Suppose we better get to bed now, I’m tired as the very dickens,” Jim remarked.
“So am I, in a way, but I’m kind of hankerin’ to have a look at the ‘Lark’—”
“You mean that you want to go joy riding along the milky way,” Jim grinned. “Well, reckon I’m not too tired for that, but

we don’t want to overdo it—just a little hop or the De Castros will be worried stiff.”

“Just a little one,” Bob nodded eagerly. They did not wait to do more than slip into light jackets, then they went quietly out

of the house and made their way unnoticed to the new hangar where they found the “Lark” resting as if poised for immediate
flight into the starry heavens. She was a beautifully built plane with all known, and several as-yet-unknown, modern
improvements, for it was a gift from Don Haurea in grateful acknowledgement of services rendered him and his immediate
family by the Flying Buddies. Their first plane had proudly borne the name of Her Highness, but some enemy bent on revenge
had ruined her, and had almost killed Bob too.

“She does look good. Let’s not light up this place; it may attract attention from the house and Senor de Castro will think

something is wrong,” Jim proposed, as he opened the door to the cock-pit.

“Suits me.” Bob climbed into the pilot seat and while he adjusted the parachute, Austin glanced at the radio instrument then

suddenly switched off the light on the control board.

“What’s up—”
“I don’t know. Look at the dials,” Jim whispered, and then Bob noticed an odd green light playing about the rims of the

instrument.

“It’s the signal from the Laboratory,” Bob said softly.
“Green means anger. Someone who is hopping mad is around here, Buddy. Scrutinize your process, old timer.”
“Perhaps you’d better see how things are in the back,” Caldwell said aloud, quite as if they had no warning of danger.
“All right, but why the heck didn’t you look before you climbed in?” Jim grumbled. Instead of jumping out of the cock-pit

in the normal fashion, he leaped over the back, stepped onto the fuselage, then swung onto the wing. In a moment he had
pushed a button and immediately the place was a blaze of light.

“Well, look who’s here,” Bob exclaimed in astonishment, and Jim dropped on his stomach to look over the side.
“If it ain’t the Dolly Sisters,” he grinned.
“Blast you—” The explosion came from the contorted lips of the huge man, one who had tried to get the wallet from

Carlos’ pocket earlier that day. Beside him, crouched to spring, and with a heavy monkey wrench ready to bring down on
some defenseless head, was the other big fellow.

“We nearly had a couple of stowaways,” Bob said cheerfully.
“Wonder if their little playmate is hanging around. Guess I’ll ring the alarm bell at the house.” Jim proceeded to carry out

the plan and in a moment they heard a bell ringing in the distance and immediately the windows of the great house leaped to
life as lights flooded through the darkness. They heard a sound as of a heavy body jumping off of one of the upper verandas,
then the swift scramble of racing feet. Shouts came from every direction, and the two men in the garage seemed to be making
a terrific effort to get away, but they could barely move.

“Bet it’s the first time they touched a live wire,” Bob remarked, but just then the power was turned off, and with a series of

furious curses, the two ruffians dashed out of the place as fast as their legs could carry them.

“The Lab. men caught them good and proper,” Jim remarked with satisfaction. “Reckon they were released to avoid

explanations. We can fix that up, all right.”

“Boy, Jim—Bob—”
“O.K., sir, here,” Jim shouted.
“Are you safe, are you injured—oh—”
“We’re great,” Jim answered quickly. “We thought we’d like a little ride before we turned in, but we found two fellows out

here, so we rang the house bell to scare them off—”

“Oh, it is fortunate you did,” Carlos said quickly as he came puffing up in his pajamas. “The bell rang, woke me up, and

there was a man in my room, just going through my pockets. He jumped so fast I could not be positive, but I believe it was
the man who asked me for the wallet this afternoon.” Just then they heard a series of loud shots, and running out, were in time
to see a manservant, gun smoking in his hand, bring down a chap as he leaped a high fence. The man fell and they ran to the
spot. The fellow was dead. There was no mistaking that face, and the boys turned away a bit sick at the sight of the bleeding
body.

“I got one, sir—” Another servant dragged the man who had jumped from the veranda.
“Lock him securely until morning,” Senor de Castro ordered.
“All for an empty purse,” Carlos remarked.
“Hey—” There came another shout and a moment later two more men were captured. One had fallen and injured his leg,

but the other was unhurt.

“Look after them. Why are you men turning into such devils?”
“To get something you don’t know anything about. That wallet you’ve been trying to kill me for is empty—there isn’t a

scrap in it,” Carlos told them. Those who could, looked at him sullenly, but the one who was hurt snarled furiously,

“Maybe it is empty,” he rasped, “and then again, maybe it ain’t, see!”

CHAPTER III

UNIDENTIFIED

“Morning, Buddy. What do you suppose that guy meant last night when he said, ‘maybe there wasn’t and maybe there

was’ something in that wallet? It got my ailerons flapping,” Bob said as he came into Jim’s room. His Flying Buddy was
already half dressed, although no one in the De Castro household was astir at that hour.

“That got my think tank clanking, too, but I reckon the old bean’s crusted, for I can’t make it out. I reached a lot of

conclusions, you can take your choice. Perhaps he was just shooting off his mouth; he may think the wallet Carlos picked up
is something different from what it is, and then again, it’s possible that there is something about the leather case which contains
the secret. We couldn’t find anything more when we looked at it last night before it was locked in the safe after they tried to
steal it,” Austin answered.

“You haven’t anything on me as a deductor. Now, all we have to do is eliminate all but one, and there we are with the

answer,” Bob grinned.

“Right-O. Any ideas on which to eliminate?”
“My dear step-brother, companion of my youth, I can argue with fervor for each and every one of them, or, with equal

conviction against them.”

“We’re equally dumb. Let’s form a trust. Sure you didn’t forget to tell Senor de Castro that we were going up for a bracer

this morning? We don’t want him to think that some doo-doo kidnaped us.”

“I told him. Said that we’d be here in time for breakfast, so let’s get a move on. Ah, ‘Lark,’ I hear you calling me!”
A bit later the Flying Buddies were again in the hangar beside the graceful little plane. This time they took the precaution of

having a good look about the place to make sure that no one was hanging around ready to throw a monkey wrench at their
heads, or concealed in the “Lark” itself. On the trip from the United States they had found a stowaway while flying above the
Caribbean Sea and the vicious brute had fought savagely to bring them down. A few days after their arrival, enemies of Mr.
Austin had secreted a huge poisonous snake in the communication tube between the two cock-pits. It had crawled leisurely
out over the nearly paralyzed Bob who was taking pictures of the coast from the back. With the settlement of the power-plant
difficulties and the apprehension of the ring-leaders, the boys had felt safe from further attempts, but it was now evident that
their association with Carlos de Castro had started a new string of enemies on their trail. Although the men had been captured
the night before, there were probably others on the outside who would seek revenge because of the failure of the attack, or
make further efforts to get possession of the mysterious wallet.

“All’s well that ends well,” Bob called when his share of the inspection was finished.
“Here too. Hop in,” Jim urged. Presently they were both ready and Austin took the controls, the engine started a cheering

roar, the propeller whirled, and the plane rolled lightly along the runway, curved a bit, her nose lifted and she began to climb
eagerly into the air. The Flying Buddies grinned at each other and their eyes glistened happily.

“This is the life,” Bob bellowed, and Jim nodded. It was a clear, beautiful morning. The sky in the east was tinted with long

pinkish grey streaks which announced the coming of the sun from beneath the horizon. They had made no plan as to where
they would go, but just started with the unconquerable desire to fly, and as the plane scrambled into the heavens they filled
their lungs with deep breaths of pure joy. Up and up they raced until the altitude meter read three thousand feet, then the pilot
leveled off, made a wide circle, and flipped her into a double loop just to relieve their feelings. He pulled her out with nicety,
then leveled off and shot forward.

“Let’s go over Amy-Ran,” Bob proposed.
“Right-O.”
The course was quickly calculated and the plane’s nose pointed in the direction of the ancient fastness which was still the

property of the descendants of the famous Yncas, whose people had once inhabited the vast empire which was the world’s
most civilized and prosperous government. Jim increased the speed and the plane roared through the sky above the
magnificent Andes Mountains with their numberless spurs and beautiful valleys, which looked as if only the greatest of nature’s
artists had been entrusted to shape their perfect outline. Here and there were high plains whose smooth surfaces looked as if
they were set with glistening opals, while others were dark-wooded with forests which were broken only by lovely lakes of
crystal-clear water that reflected the sky above them like wonderful mirrors. The sun, rising with a splendid burst of brilliance,
sent its rays flashing until every inch they touched leaped to life and color.

The Flying Buddies took in all of the marvelous scenes rolling beneath them, and were intensely sorry for grounded chaps

who had never experienced the thrill of viewing such a panorama to the accompaniment of wind singing through the wires of
an airplane carrying them swiftly through space between the earth and sky. Finally, in the distance, they made out the S-
shaped plateau of Amy-Ran, whose edge was rimmed like a crown with the giant stone that had once formed a section of its
inaccessible fortress.

In a few minutes the “Lark” was circling like a bird above one end and as Jim calculated his landing he recalled the day

Carlos de Castro had brought them to the spot, the day that young Arthur Gordon had so mysteriously appeared and
assaulted them. There had been no means of escape from the precipitous rock or the murderous attack of the Texas outlaw
and Austin had been sure that it was only a matter of minutes before their three lifeless bodies would be pounced upon by
hungry vultures whose nests were secreted on nearby crags. When his Buddies lay helpless, Jim was standing before a black-
nosed revolver but before its trigger could be pressed Yncicea Haurea and his uncle Corso stepped into the ruin and the tide

of battle was swiftly and effectively turned. The motor was silenced and the “Lark” was gliding quietly down.

“I’m taking her where she can be a bit out of sight.”
“Great brain work. Never know who may take the air with a view to doing scout work. Peaceful spot, this old Peru, when

there is no one about,” said Bob. He too had been thinking of the wild experiences they had been through, but his thoughts
had been on the more recent happenings, and as they made the descent his eyes lingered with amusement at the nearby peak
which a few nights before had given a perfect imitation of a seething volcano with tons of burning lava rushing threateningly on
Gordon and his gang. If it had been the real thing, the Flying Buddies and the two De Castros would have been buried under
many feet of molten rock and cinders. But as a piece of clever stage business it had struck terror into the hearts of the man
with the green mask and his companions. In their mad rush to get above the danger zone several of them had been killed.

“Give a calf enough rope and he’ll hang himself,” Caldwell remarked as the plane’s wheels touched the chosen landing spot

and rolled a few feet. “Queer how many of those guys have eliminated themselves in one way or another.”

“Yes. I should think they’d begin to tumble to themselves that they are amateurs and quit trying to get the better of the men

they are so intent on robbing,” Jim answered. The plane rolled beneath the shelter of the fortress wall and when she was in a
position where she could not be seen by curious flyers, he brought her to a stop. “I have a hunch that some bright lad in that
gang may come flying about to have a look at the remains of the volcano.”

“Well, won’t he get the jolt of his gay careless youth when he can’t find a crater as big as a hole in a tooth?” chuckled Bob.

“Any hunches that we’ll find a Lab. man around?”

“Thought we might,” Jim admitted.
“And presto, I appear!” It was Ynilea, who smiled broadly. “I too am becoming subject to attacks of hunch and when we

found that you were not going to go home this morning under central power I observed your hilarious flight and was delighted
when you determined to pay Amy-Ran another visit.”

“Gee, did you see the party they tried to pull last night?” Bob demanded quickly.
“Not the ‘party’ but the records this morning.”
“A man called Ollie had a plane smash-up somewhere in the Andes and thinks he discovered a rich deposit of platinum,”

Jim explained.

“Where?” Ynilea was interested.
“I don’t know,” the boy answered, then went on and told of the conversation they had overheard in the Santa Maria and

the later attack of the chap who wanted the wallet.

“We don’t know yet if it is the same man but it looks as if it might be,” Bob put in. “I say—” He stopped abruptly, for their

quick ears had caught the unmistakable hum of an airplane motor, “that one of your crates?”

“No.” Ynilea listened intently. “No.”
They sat very still as the sound grew in volume, then the Lab. man stepped cautiously toward the place where the boys had

run the “Lark” under cover. Quickly the Flying Buddies jumped out of straps and parachutes and hurried after him. In a
moment they were making their way along the outer edge of the great wall, much as Carlos had said he did when he came
there as a small boy and thought he saw an opening into a court. They proceeded carefully, keeping out of sight of the
approaching airman, until suddenly Ynilea held up his hand. Just ahead of them they saw the Indian woman whose age no one
could ever guess, coming very slowly from the opposite direction. She was wearing a robe which hung in folds from her
shoulders, a loose hood covered her head, and the material looked so exactly like the stones beside which she walked that if
she had not moved she could not have been distinguished from one of them. She seemed to be aware of their presence, for in
a moment she stopped, made a slight movement of her head, and Ynilea instantly went to her, the boys close at his heels.

“Come,” she said softly.
Her hand, still concealed by the folds of her sleeve, moved over the nearest stone, and after an instant, during which the

Flying Buddies almost held their breaths, the great mass moved. It slipped back about three inches, then slid along like a
folding door, leaving an opening wide enough for them all to enter. The boys drew quick breaths of astonishment as they
found themselves in a good-sized room which was cut out of the solid rock of the mountain. The heavy panel returned to its
place, and a moment later they stood close together on another rock which dropped with perfect smoothness about ten feet,
then admitted them into another small room. This seemed to be in the section near the edge of the cliff. Ynilea moved back a
part in one corner, and through a clever screen of foliage they could get a good view of the sky.

“My gosh, Carlos was right, he did see an opening in the wall,” Bob said softly, and Ynilea turned a questioning glance

toward him.

“He and some boys were here, I mean on top, years ago, and the little fellow declared he saw an opening in the wall. He

was separated from his fellows, but when he found them and wanted to show it to them, he couldn’t locate it again and they
thought he was dreaming, or his imagination working over-time,” Jim explained.

“His story was not credited?” Ynilea was adjusting a sort of periscope.
“No. He was such a little fellow they were sure he was mistaken.”
“Oh, there she is,” the tall Indian announced. He turned a wheel in the instrument and the boys could easily see the plane

they had heard circling in a wide loop over their heads. As they watched, the man adjusted the glass until it was like a
powerful telescope and Jim whistled as the flying machine was brought close enough for them to see the dark face of the pilot
who was leaning over the side of his plane. He seemed to be looking for something and scowled when he did not find it.

“Bet the first gold tooth I get against a plugged dime that your hunch was right, Buddy. He is looking for the crater and the